“Well, sir, I remained in the camp of the Free Sword for five days; but I learned nothing more, because there was really nothing more to learn. But on the evening of the fifth day there was a surprise.”
“Ah!”
“Not from our forces. The surprise was the sudden arrival of Colonel Goldsborough with a female captive. He came in the dead of night, with his prisoner bound on the horse behind him, and attended by a single officer, the notorious Nicholas Mutchison, whose gigantic proportions have in no degree been exaggerated by report.”
“Umph!”
“We learned from that loud-mouthed Mutchison, who told the story with great gusto, that their band had surprised a picnic party near the Point of Rocks; had exchanged their own foul and ragged clothing for the holiday dresses of the gentlemen, as far as they would go; had eaten up the picnic dinner and finished the evening by a ball in which they danced with the ladies of the party; and finally had broken up their bivouac in a hurry at the arrival of their chief and the announcement of a squadron of Yankee cavalry near, and had brought off one young lady captive, leaving all the others to find their way home as they could.”
“Where was this picnic party from?”
“Washington.”
“And—what young lady was that who was taken captive?” inquired Colonel Rosenthal, with a dawning of anxiety.
“Mutchison called her Miss Fielding; Colonel Goldsborough called her Elfie.”
“Good Heaven!”